Spree
by raichley
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are on a killing spree. But is it really them? **Criminal Minds & Supernatural crossover. Oneshot. Fits in with my "Monsters" series but is not important to that story - more of a filler.**


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Criminal Minds,_ _Supernatural _or any of the characters, and I am in no way affiliated with either show. This is for entertainment purposes only.**

**Ties into the _Monsters_ series between Runaway and Hunt, but is not important to that storyline.**

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"So we've got a pair of evil doppelgangers, we're most likely at the top of the FBI's Most Wanted list," Dean said, "and you want to call an old friend?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess. It was just an idea."

"Is it gonna get the FBI off our trail?" Dean asked. "Because we really don't need to be focusing on anything else right now."

"The, uh, the friend I'm calling is an FBI agent," Sam told him.

Dean stared at Sam like he'd gone batshit crazy. "An FBI _agent_," he repeated. Sam really had gone off his rocker. No FBI agent would want to get a call from them now, and definitely no FBI agent would help the Winchesters if they did call.

"Look," Sam said, "I know it sounds crazy. But JJ used to be the media liason for her department – she can stop the press getting hold of the story."

Dean frowned. "Sam, we heard about this on the news. The press already know."

"Not that story," Sam clarified. "The story of our arrest."

Shaking his head, Dean sighed. How could being arrested help them? Then they'd have to stand trial, and there was no way they'd get anything less than the death penalty. Not with these charges.

"If the press don't know about our arrest," Sam continued, "then how would the Leviathans know?"

.

"Wheels up in thirty," Hotch said, and the team filtered out of the conference room. JJ went to get her coat from where she'd left it on the back of her desk chair, and as she put it on, her phone began to ring.

"Jareau," she recited automatically as she answered it.

"JJ," he said, "it's Sam Winchester."

JJ froze. Sam was calling her? Why? What reason could he possibly have for this? Spree killers didn't care about contact with the press, the police, anyone, and the Winchesters had never been the taunting type.

"Sam," she whispered.

Prentiss and Reid, who were nearby, looked up as JJ said the name. Prentiss drifted closer to where her colleague was standing, wondering if she should do anything, as Reid disappeared to find Garcia and get her to track the call.

"I have a deal for you," Sam told JJ.

JJ frowned. This definitely did not fit the profile. "A deal?" she echoed.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Look, Dean and I – we're good at escaping. You probably know by now that we've got partners, and they're pretty good at helping us disappear. If you tell anyone about this – other than anyone who absolutely needs to know – then we go. Understand?"

After thinking about Sam's words for a moment, JJ said, "I don't think I follow."

"We're turning ourselves in," Sam said. "We're gonna let you arrest us."

That, JJ thought, pretty much threw the profile out of the window.

.

Prentiss, Reid and Hotch had gone to Lake Manitoc to keep up the appearance that, in fact, the BAU had no clue where the Winchesters were. JJ, Rossi and Morgan had headed to a warehouse in Chesapeake Bay, where Sam had told JJ to meet them.

"This is probably a trap, JJ," Morgan warned her.

JJ shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I think Sam was desperate for something, and I think he thinks he'll get it this way somehow."

Rossi and Morgan glanced at each other, and then Rossi pushed the door open. It swung away from them, creaking slightly, revealing the dark warehouse interior behind it.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," JJ called. "Come where we can see you. Hands up."

It was Sam who appeared first, his hands above his head, and no gun visible around his waist. Dean followed behind him a few seconds later.

"Hey, JJ," Sam said, nodding towards the grown-up version of a girl he'd known for a day, a long time ago. She nodded back as Morgan secured the handcuffs around his wrists, and then checked for a gun whilst reading him his rights. Rossi did the same for Dean.

"No press?" Dean asked.

JJ nodded. "We made sure. Nobody's gonna know about this."

.

Upon arrival at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Sam and Dean were immediately separated and placed in separate rooms. Rossi had called Hotch to let them know the brothers were in custody, and to remind Hotch not to let Morris and Valente – the FBI agents working the Winchester case alongside them – know about the deal.

After waiting a few hours to increase the Winchesters' anxiety, Morgan decided to question the elder brother, Dean, to see if he could get the man to confess to something, and Rossi went with him, leaving JJ with Sam.

"Hello, Sam," she said, shutting the door behind her. She sat in the chair opposite Sam's, placing the rather thick file on the table in front of her.

"JJ," Sam greeted. "It's been a long time."

JJ nodded. "Very long."

A pause, stretched out to cover several minutes, interrupted their conversation.

"The press don't know?" Sam questioned eventually, just to check.

JJ shook her head. "There are about ten people who know you're here," she told him. "I don't think any of them will tell anyone. You're safe."

Sam nodded. "Good. Thank you."

Another pause muted their words. Again, it was Sam who spoke first, but now his words came out uncertain and hesitant. "I, uh, I was wondering about the others. Eddie and Rosa. I don't know what happened to them – I mean, I only knew you were FBI because you were on the news."

JJ looked down. "Eddie's fine. He lives in the city now – in Pittsburgh. He's a University lecturer there. History."

Sam nodded. "He's happy?"

"Yeah," JJ said softly, "I think he is."

"And Rosa?" Sam pressed. "Is she happy, too?"

JJ studied Sam's face for a moment. "I hope so," she told him eventually. "I hope she's in a better place now."

"Rosa's dead?" Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes widening. He remembered Rosa talking to him, sitting him down on her bed. He remembered her saying how JJ cared, but didn't _know_. And he remembered her hug, just before he left, and that mysterious _thank you_ he'd wondered about for years.

"The morning after you left," JJ said, her eyes not meeting Sam's. The sadness in her voice was almost unbearable. "She was in the bath – she cut her wrists -"

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly.

.

"An agent from the FBI, who we cannot name, has informed us that the Winchesters have been apprehended and are being held at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia..."

.

"Dammit," Prentiss said, hitting the mute button. "Who leaked that?"

"No way to know," Reid said. "Someone who knew could've told someone who wasn't supposed to know, who in turn leaked it to the press. It could be anyone at Quantico."

Just then, Morris and Valente came in to the room. They'd been working on the Winchester case from the first shooting in California, but when the killing had escalated and they hadn't come any closer to catching the brothers, they'd decided to call in some help.

"You seen the news?" Prentiss inquired.

Morris shook his head. "No. Listen, there's been another shooting. A diner in St. Louis, Missouri. They forced a kid to video it."

Reid raised his eyebrows. "That's -"

"Reid," Hotch said, cutting the younger agent off. "Thank you, Morris."

Morris nodded to them, and left the room. After he shut the door behind him, Prentiss said, "That's impossible."

Hotch nodded, pulling out his phone and dialling Rossi's number as he said, "This might be why the Winchesters didn't want the press to know they were in our custody. They're proving to us that it's not them out there." He pressed a button on his phone and then said, "Rossi, you're on speaker."

"You too," Rossi said. "Listen, we have a problem. Morgan caught the news report on the TV, and he called JJ and me out to watch it. By the time we got back to the interrogation rooms, Sam and Dean were gone."

"How long ago?" Hotch questioned.

"About five minutes," JJ answered. "We were about to call you."

"Can't get to Missouri in five minutes," Prentiss said.

Reid's eyebrows knotted together. "This doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "If the Winchesters only escaped five minutes ago, it's impossible that they managed to get to St. Louis in that time, even without factoring in time for them to kill the people in that diner, and then for the news to reach us. It just doesn't make sense."

"There's been another shooting?" JJ questioned.

"St. Louis, Missouri," Hotch told her. "They forced a kid in a diner to video them."

There was a long pause. Questions bounced silently around the room, the answers impossible.

"That was Sam Winchester in that interrogation room," JJ said eventually. "He couldn't have been in that diner, nor could Dean. Someone's setting them up."

"How?" Morgan asked. "How would you pull that off?"

"I don't know," JJ admitted, "but it's the only possible explanation."

.

"The Winchesters are dead," Hotch said, walking into the room the St. Louis Police Department had given them to set up. "They were sighted and arrested in Ankeny, Iowa. By the time Morris and Valente got there, they were dead."

"They're dead?" JJ questioned.

"Or the imposters are," Morgan reminded her.

"Maybe now we'll be able to find out how they're doing it," Reid muttered hopefully. The whole thing had baffled him since they'd found out about the Missouri shooting, and he wasn't used to being baffled. He was used to having all the answers.

Hotch shook his head. "Ankeny PD already sent the bodies to the crematorium. They've been destroyed – apparently as per the brothers' wills and religious requirements."

"Religious requirements?" JJ repeated. "Sam was Christian. They usually bury, not cremate."

Morgan shrugged. "Maybe the imposters had different religious requirements," he suggested.

"Either way," Hotch said, "Morris and Valente closed the case. We'll be leaving for Quantico in the morning."

.

JJ was sat alone in her hotel room, turning her phone over and over in her hand, trying to ignore the part of her brain that worried that Sam Winchester was actually dead. A knock startled her, and she jumped out of her chair, dropping the phone in surprise, before crossing the room to open the door.

"Hey," Prentiss said, "you okay?"

JJ nodded.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," JJ told her, opening the door wider to allow her friend in. She shut the door behind her, and turned to find Prentiss studying her face.

"Talk to me," her friend requested.

JJ pressed her lips together. "I don't know what to think," she admitted. "I know Sam was innocent of the spree, at least, but the FBI have been after them for years. Remember Henrikson?"

Prentiss nodded. "He was set on finding them. It was almost like a vendetta," she remembered. "And they supposedly died in that explosion."

JJ nodded. "And then suddenly this spree starts, four years later," she said. "But what about the other crimes? The original St. Louis murders? What if Sam really is a killer?"

"It was Dean who was caught at the scene in St. Louis," Prentiss reminded her softly. "There's no evidence to suggest Sam ever killed anyone."

"But he helped Dean," JJ countered reluctantly.

Prentiss thought about that for a moment. "Sam left Stanford with his brother right after his girlfriend died," she said. "He would have been emotional. Vulnerable, even. Dean could have taken advantage of that and manipulated him into helping him. And you said he ran away before." She looked over at her friend. "JJ, everything points to Sam not wanting to be a part of this," she said. "Most likely Dean's manipulating him somehow, because he doesn't want to be alone."

JJ nodded. "So Sam's not a killer," she muttered.

Prentiss nodded, glancing at her watch and standing up. "Yeah. He'd probably be a good man if it wasn't for his brother," she said. "I'm going to go get some sleep. You should, too."

With that, Prentiss left. JJ watched the door slam shut behind her, and then looked around the room. She noticed the phone lying by the chair, where she'd dropped it earlier, and went to pick it up.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind was still there, from before Prentiss had come in. So what if Sam was dead? He was a killer's accomplice. She shouldn't care about him.

And yet, she did.

She knew that, most likely, it was the imposters that had died in Ankeny; the Winchesters had hardly had time to get there, especially since it was unlikely they'd take a plane when everyone was looking out for their faces. But still, it was a possibility that Sam was dead.

JJ flipped open her phone to find the unknown number that had called her only days ago, and pressed the call button. Holding it to her ear, she let it ring, and ring...

Sam did not pick up.

.

Several hundred miles away, on a country lane in the middle of nowhere, Sam's phone was ringing. He had it in his hand, staring at JJ's name on the screen, and wondering whether he should answer.

"You gonna get that?" Dean asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look over at Sam, who shrugged.

"It's JJ," he told his elder brother.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I swear the FBI's supposed to think we're dead."

"Look, JJ knows we didn't kill those people," Sam said. "She's not gonna tell everyone we're alive."

Dean twisted the wheel as the road turned sharply. "Look, Sam," he said, "she's gonna want an explanation. You answer that call, you drag her into our world. Do you really want that?"

**Okay, so that's the second part of the series. I have an idea for the third part, and I will be publishing that at some point :-)**

**Please review?**


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